


The Leopard Cannot Change Her Fluff

by clamare (kirana)



Series: The Lore of Clan Clamare [2]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Dragons, F/M, Tundras, Wind Flight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirana/pseuds/clamare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Or can she</i>?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Leopard Cannot Change Her Fluff

        "Masul!  Masul, come see, come see!"

        The Pearlcatcher followed the happy shrieking of his mate and poked his head outside the lair.  "Feyace?  Where are you?"

        "Psst!  This way!"

        He rolled his eyes when he saw his mate's nose peeking out of some bushes and ambled over.  "I was just getting ready to eat," he told her nose, still all he could see.  Not even her eyes were showing.

        "Bah, you and Tundras," she said, disgusted.  "Always with the salads, you veggievores.  Eat bugs instead!"

        "I like bugs," he reminded her, reaching out to touch his nose to hers.  As expected, she retreated, allowing him to follow her into the thicket she was hiding in.

        A pause, then, "Eat meat instead!"

        He made a face.  Meat, yuck.  At least he and his mate _could_ eat some of the same things, unlike Oria and Delwyn.  Surf'n'turf was the meal du jour for them.  He and Feyace agreed on that--fish were nasty, slimy things.

        "Where are we going?" he asked, following the sound of his mate as she slithered through the woods.

        "Uh, wait a minute, okay?"

        Obediently, he sat and waited for his mate to say when he could find her.  Hopefully, she wouldn't be distracted by a pretty--and tasty--butterfly this time.

        "Okay, okay, come see, come see!"

        He stood and stepped through the last screen of bushes to find . . . a curiously _hairy_ mate.

        "Look at me!" she cried out, prancing around happily.  "I'm a Tundra!  Such plant, much sky!  Wow!  So tree!"

        "What are you . . . ?"  Mouth agape, he could only stare.  She was _covered_ in fur.  It was a little disturbing to see his beautifully smooth-skinned mate suddenly all . . . puffy.  "You didn't shave Hyperion, did you?"

        " _No_ , party pooper, I totally didn't!"  She stuck her tongue out at him.  "I found them at the Marketplace!  Aren't they _awesome_?!"  She dropped at his feet and rolled over, sniffing exaggeratedly.  "Mmm, you smell like a salad bar.  And a friendship.  And a love."

        "You are so puff," he agreed gravely, bowing his head so he could sniff discretely at the fur she was wearing.  Nope, not Hyperion.  Maybe she _had_ found it at the Marketplace--he'd heard there were some wonderful new wares showing up.  "Now, you're not going to do this when we go home, right?"

        She pouted a little.  "Savorda already told me I couldn't," she said.  "But really she meant I couldn't go around pretending to be a Tundra--I can still wear this as long as I promise to not make fun of our Tundras."

        Later in the evening, he reflected that Savorda should really have known better.  There was no need for Feyace to pretend.  As soon as she came back to the lair in her outlandish get-up, all the clan's Tundras--and a few who had made the decision to petition the Windsinger to change to a different breed--had gathered around her to oooo and ahhhh over her soft and pretty fur while she preened at the attention.  In fact, he overheard a few _Skydancers_ making plans to go straight out the next morning and procure some fluffy tails for themselves.

        He shook his head.   _His_ mate, the clan's fashion maven.  Who would've thought?


End file.
